


Sinterklaas and Santa Claus

by Drakey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (is that even a thing?), Christmas, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Secret Santa, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/pseuds/Drakey
Summary: When Draco Malfoy started spending all his free time with the Gryffindors after the war, nobody expected him to bring his traditions along. Fortunately, the Secret Santa (Gryffindor Edition) seems to be fun for everyone.





	1. Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the most Luna Draco I've ever written.

There was a Christmas tree in the common room. Ron edged around it, eyeing the new addition warily, lest it turn out to be yet another Malfoyish invention. So far, he'd not been impressed with... well, with anything Malfoy had done since he began to show up in the common room. Between Harry's encouragement and Seamus giving him puppy-dog eyes over the whole thing (the poor boy was so obviously smitten it was a little sickening), Ron couldn't bring himself to be too awful to Malfoy, but that didn't mean he enjoyed seeing the Slytherin asleep on the big sofa by the fireplace every morning for the last two months.

The tree was huge, a fifteen foot monstrosity that had shed needles on the floor and had apparently been brought in through the window, given that was where the path of needles from it led. Silver garland chased around it in a spiral ascending clockwise, and gold corkscrewed the other way, candy canes hung from the branches, bright baubles and fairy lights gleamed from deep inside it.

Sure enough, as Ron got to the other side of the tree, he encountered Draco Malfoy, damp and slightly manic-looking, magicking a layer of silver-and-gold tinsel onto the tree.

"Oh, good," the moderately waterlogged man said, shooting Ron a grin. "You're the last one here. I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to ambush you."

Ron glanced at the tree, then at the sofa and the squashy armchairs. All the eighth years were gathered around, watching with varying degrees of bemusement as Malfoy sent streamers of tinsel artfully at the tree. Harry stood by Hermione's side, his lips quirked into an odd smile. Lavender had her eyes narrowed in a vaguely suspicious expression, and beside her, Neville was clearly trying to hold in laughter. Dean was smirking at Seamus, and Seamus was pretty shamelessly doe-eyed, watching Malfoy bustle around the tree. They were all holding ornaments. Ron looked back to Malfoy.

"Ambush me for what, mate?"

Malfoy turned towards Ron just long enough to roll his eyes. "For Geheimer Weihnachtsmann."

"Gesundheit," Ron muttered, and he turned to walk away. Seamus caught him before he got two steps.

"Secret Santa," Seamus said by way of explanation, whirling Ron around and pointing him back at the tree. Malfoy was already smiling at Seamus' support. Seamus pushed Ron towards the tree. "Just grab that last blue ornament over there."

Ron walked speculatively up to the tree. It wasn't difficult to spot the blue bauble. The rest of the tree was done up in bright, warm colors and cheery neutrals, lending what Ron had to admit was a nice, homey atmosphere to the common room. 

"Before you grab it," Malfoy interrupted when Ron reached out, and he snatched his hand back. "Er... there's a spell on the ornaments. The gift has to come from the heart."

"What the hell does that mean?" Ron groused.

"You can't just get... I don't know, Harry, I suppose... and go 'well, he likes quidditch, I'll get him a quidditch book.' It has to be something you know that they'll like and that you'll feel good knowing they have it." Malfoy grinned. "You can't tell your person you got them, either. The spell won't let you. But once you have yours, everyone should know who they got."

"Oh." Ron peered at the bauble. "Is it just eighth years?" Malfoy nodded. Ron shrugged. "Eh. Why not." He picked up the last blue bauble and it changed color and shimmered in his hand. Finally, Neville Longbottom's face appeared on the ball, distorted a little by the round shape, grinning and winking occasionally. Ron ran through all the herbology things he could think of (it didn't take long) and frowned at Malfoy. "Now what do we do?"

"Keep that around to remind you who your person is. Don't worry, you're the only one who can see the face. Took a lot of work to learn, that spell." Malfoy kept working on the tree, covering the spot Ron had just taken his bauble from in tinsel.

"Has he been like this all day?" Ron mouthed at Harry. Harry nodded, then went back to looking at his own bauble, then eyeing Malfoy, then looking at his bauble and grimacing a little. Ron snorted a little. 

+----+

The problem, of course, was that Ron didn't actually know much about Neville besides the herbology thing. Harry kept giggling to him about how he was drawing on a shockingly deep well of knowledge about Malfoy to get him a secret Santa gift. Hermione had gotten Lavender, and claimed that she already had the gift picked out. But Ron had no idea what to get for Neville, and after a full day of thinking about it, the only idea he had for a gift was to bash his head against the wall until it wasn't an issue anymore. Somehow he doubted Neville would really appreciate that. Finally, he plunked himself down next to Malfoy on the sofa.

Malfoy was gazing at the tree with a dreamy, faraway look on his face. The warm lights of the tree and the hearth played on his face, lending him a surprising innocence and softness. "Where did this secret Santa thing come from?"

"Why?" Malfoy asked, not taking his eyes from the tree. "Have you got me? No, I know you wouldn't be able to tell me."

"I've got Neville," Ron confessed. "I have no idea what to get him."

"You think you have problems," Malfoy smirked, "I have Seamus."

"You could give him a flaming sack of troll shit and he'd be delighted you thought of him," Ron muttered.

"But I can't just do that," Malfoy finally turned to look at Ron. Without the light from the tree, he was sharper and more angular again. Ron didn't like the change. "It has to really mean something. I can't give him a mediocre gift."

"Could always sneak into his bed wearing nothing but a bow," Ron murmured under his breath.

"That won't work, either," Malfoy said.

Ron rolled his eyes. Count on Malfoy to hear that. After a long silence, Malfoy said "the secret Santa is a Slytherin thing. We can get so competitive, it helps to have bonding experiences. That's why it has to come from the heart. Go spend time with Neville. That's what the whole thing is about."


	2. Christmas Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to Trans-Siberian Orchestra while writing this. It's nice, because it makes Christmas metal as fuck.

Ron Weasley always sat behind Neville in Defense. Truth be told, Neville liked it that way. He enjoyed the way Ron bantered with Harry, thinking himself too quiet to be heard when he made giggling, snarky comments. Their last day of classes before the holiday started was always pretty relaxed, but this time, Professor Weasley (Bill Weasley had been recruited to teach the position on the logic that if it was still cursed, he had experience as a curse-breaker) had apparently decided to go all-out with the relaxed atmosphere, at least for the eighth years. A table groaned under mugs of hot butterbeer, and beside it, another creaked under a load of plates with snacks, including a prominent platter of red-and-green iced cookies and gingerbread men surrounding a gorgeous gingerbread model of Hogwarts. Neville wondered if they would even be sitting in their usual seats, or if there was going to be a party instead of a class. He sat anyway, looking nervously around. Hopefully, Ron and Harry would be sitting soon.

Seamus and Draco came in, chatting happily about something that was probably inane. Draco looked over the treats on the table, made a noise of mild but definite approval, and took his usual seat. Seamus sat next to him, and then a loud shout from outside the room had all three of them up, with wands pointed at the door.

"Fine!" Ron's voice bellowed. "Have your way, then! That's what you always do!" He burst in the door, storming like a hurricane. Harry followed a little after him, and Ron plunked down next to Neville. Harry sat across the classroom, shot a dark look at Ron, and settled into glaring at the blackboard.

"Erm, hullo Ron," Neville said. "Something wrong?"

Ron sighed. "I don't want to..." he looked down at his desk. "Later." He flopped a little melodramatically down to frame his head with his arms in a position of defeat. "Cheer me up, Neville?"

Neville pushed down a chuckle at the way Ron had flounced onto his desk. He pulled his wand, pointed it at the table of cookies, and summoned a gingerbread man silently, then animated it with a muttered spell. It was just a little repeating motion, a simple spell his grandmother had taught him because he would "be entertaining his own little babies soon," but it served the purpose well enough, and Ron cracked a little smile.

A little one.

Neville stepped it up. "Don't be sad, Ron," he said in a falsetto, putting on an exaggerated posh accent. "I'm your gingerbread pal, Tasty Neville! Eat me!" Ron sniggered, and Neville blanched. "Oh, that sounded wrong. Um..."

Before Neville could come up with a less suggestive thing to have Tasty Neville say, Ron had grabbed the cookie and bitten its leg off. "Merlin, Neville, you're delicious." He took another bite, maintaining eye contact with Neville the whole time. "I could eat you all day."

"Ooookaay... I'm gonna leave and then come back in and pretend I didn't just see my little brother making a horrifying sexual innuendo at Neville Longbottom." Neville turned to look at Bill Weasley as the instructor actually did turn around, pushing past an out-of-breath Dean Thomas on his way out. Dean gave him a look of absolute confusion. Neville looked back to Ron, but Ron was frozen with Tasty Neville's remaining leg pushed awkwardly against his half-open mouth. The cookie was still squirming around, its little leg pushing occasionally on Ron's lips, but Ron had turned bright red and didn't seem to notice.

Neville nearly collapsed laughing.

+----+

Ron kicked at the snow, a little sullenly. Clumps of snow sprayed away from his foot. He'd been silent and sullen since they got out of Defense class, and Neville had dragged him out for a walk around the grounds. There was something strange to the way Ron was behaving, not his normal behavior when he was upset. Neville wanted to get to the bottom of it, and he'd been smiling and being as solicitous as possible for nearly half an hour. Finally, his efforts paid off: Ron spoke.

"Harry says he got Hermione for the Secret Santa," Ron said. Neville's eyes went a little wider, and he listened patiently. "He says since I haven't really made a move on her, and he and Ginny haven't really been... y'know... she's not happy with him about breaking up with her to go on an adventure... he says he's going to ask Hermione to go out with him and give her her Secret Santa gift in... you know, he's going to use it as a reason to get close to her."

"That sounds..." Neville shook his head. "Ron, that's definitely just an excuse."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously." He shook his head. "I don't know... who do you have?"

Neville blurted out "I'm not telling you that" without really thinking about it.

Ron blinked, and then blushed a little and said "sorry."

"Anyway, 'Mione hates it when Harry and I fight, and she's..."

Neville grabbed Ron and hugged him. Ron was almost a whole head taller than Neville, so his face wound up stuffed into Ron's shloulder. It was comfy, except for the snowflakes covering Ron's thick woolen sweater. "It'll be okay, Ron." Ron stiffened and then relaxed and hugged back.

"Thanks, Neville." He mumbled. "I hope you're okay with me hanging around you?"

"Of course I am," Neville agreed into the snowy folds of Ron's jumper. "You're my mate, right?"

"Right," Ron said. He pulled away from the hug and laughed a little, reaching out to brush fingers over Neville's head. "You're covered in snow."

Neville felt himself blushing a little and ducked his head, reaching up to brush the snow off of his hair. He batted Ron's hand aside with the motion. "Let's go find someplace to sit and talk," Neville suggested. "I'm sure there's plenty we don't know about each other. Maybe it would feel better to talk about Hermione? What got you interested in her in the first place?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Ron.
> 
> I'm working off of a list of prompt phrases. The chapter titles will reflect what the prompt is for that chapter.


	3. Fireplace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of an interesting mode of writing. Incorporating the prompt without checking ahead or having a plan is pretty hard.

"So when are you and Harry planning to 'make up?'" Malfoy asked.

Ron stared at him for a moment. "How did you know we weren't really fighting?"

"Well, you definitely aren't really mad over Hermione," Draco said. "Since I know Harry hasn't got her. He's got me."

"Did you rig the spell so you'd know?"

Malfoy laughed. "No, it's just Harry is really obvious about it. He spent all afternoon chatting with me. Casually mentioned his ideal Christmas present. It was a little painful how easy it was to tell." He leaned back on the sofa that had become "Draco's sofa" over the last couple of months, looking at the logs burning in the fireplace. Orange flames danced merrily and Draco's face was once again bathed in softening light. Someone (Draco) had enchanted stockings to hover over the fireplace, bearing the names of all the Gryffindors. There were so many of them that they formed a sort of swarm of Christmas cheer. Green and red and gold garlands twisted around each other on the mantelpiece, and little candles put off the scent of cinnamon, flickering serenely among the Christmas decorations.

"Do you think Neville knows?"

"Longbottom? Nah, he's oblivious." Draco grinned, flicking his wand to add another log to the fire.

The portrait opened up, concealed from the tree. "Pretty sure he's got me, though," Ron said in an undertone just before Neville came around the tree. He was covered in snow.

"Merlin, it's brisk out there," Neville exclaimed happily, coming around the sofa to pull off his robe and aim his wand at it. He murmured a spell, and it hovered, fairly spread out, near enough to the fire that it would dry out and warm up quickly. The thick robe stayed in place until Neville sat down between Ron and Draco. The instant he was comfortable, of course, the robe fell. "Aw," Neville said.

Draco was pushing at him. "Longbottom, you're freezing! Gerroff, you'll get me all cold, too!" 

Neville started to struggle out of the soft seat, but Ron pushed him back down, fished out his wand, and snapped _"adseculum"_ at the robe. It popped back up. Neville thanked him quietly, ignoring Malfoy's shoving. Ron favored him with a little smile. "Where were you?"

"Greenhouses," Neville explained. "Professor Sprout has greenhouse two all filled with holly and mistletoe and such. It's lovely."

"Mistletoe?" Draco enthused, stopping his efforts to roust Neville.

"Oh, now you've done it," Ron grumped. "He'll have mistletoe up all over the place."

"Just a good excuse for you and Tasty Neville to have some alone time," Neville said with a huge grin. Ron turned bright red. 

"Did you just call yourself 'Tasty Neville," Longbottom?" Malfoy laughed. Ron turned even redder while Neville struggled to explain, but of course Draco hadn't been there for Neville's (admittedly kinda cute) little stunt with the gingerbread and was therefore looking progressively more incredulous as it went on.

Ron drifted off a bit listening to them talking back and forth. Maybe he could get Neville some sort of greenhouse thing. He could picture himself handing it over. A portable greenhouse sounded plausible, something collapsible that Neville could get a lot of use out of. He'd open it up and smile brightly, that one that came out when he was just enjoying himself, instead of the weirdly strained one that he turned on Ron when he was trying to cheer him up. Then he'd hand over his own Secret Santa gift and Ron would open it up and laugh, because Neville had given him a greenhouse, too, only it was flying around on dragon wings.

Neville shook Ron awake. "Hey. Ron."

Ron blinked, shook his head, and looked at Malfoy smirking at him down the length of the sofa. "It's bedtime, Weasley," Draco chirped. "I didn't know we were so boring you had to get a head start to avoid listening to us."

Neville stood up, sticking out his hand to help Ron up. Ron took the proffered hand, let out a little grunt when Neville yanked him up, and his eyes got a little wide when he stumbled forward a bit. Neville reached out to keep him stable with a hand on his chest. Ron squeezed his hand in surprise while his other hand came up to grab Neville's shoulder. They wound up less than a foot apart, Ron's surprised grunt hanging in the air between them. "You're pretty strong," he noted stupidly.

"You're pretty light," Neville shot back. "Maybe we ought to go down to the kitchen and get some food in you."

Ron nodded stiffly. "Good idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying this Malfoy.


	4. Hot Chocolate Milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't write from this prompt without tea, couldn't resist putting cinnamon whiskey in the tea. If it gets weird toward the end, that's why :P

The elves had put cinnamon sticks in it. Ron pulled just a little greedily at his hot chocolate. The kitchens were always so quiet at this time of the night, with nobody there. A spread of biscuits and sweets framed heartier fare in front of them, where the house elves had set them up in the quietest corner of the kitchen. The place was so big that it echoed if Neville spoke in the middle of the room, but this little corner was right next to a low fire, decorated with garland and scented candles, ostensibly for the house elves' cheering, but really for anyone who might come to visit and be stuffed full of sweets. They ate in sweet silence, Neville sipping happily away at his own cocoa while Ron looked speculatively at a speculaas and a ginger nut, his eyes darting from the cookies to his cocoa and back again.

With a little smile, Neville reached over, picked up the ginger nut, and dunked it in Ron's cocoa, swirled it once or twice, then handed it dry-end-first to Ron. Ron laughed, taking a hearty bite out of the cookie. "You're right, of course," he said once he had finished it. "Everyone else usually is."

"Ron, that's not fair. You're brilliant, you just--"

"I just don't think."

Neville winced. "You're a little impulsive. Not dumb." He let the silence grow up again, but it was uncomfortable now. Ron was looking anywhere but at Neville. He dunked the speculaas, made a face when he took a bite, and set it aside. "Too rich?"

"Absorbs too much," Ron answered.

The quiet of the kitchen returned, and Neville almost wanted to scream just to fill it. It had been so nice. If it wasn't going to go back to being a pleasant silence, Neville figured he might as well probe Ron a bit. "Ron? What happened with you and Hermione?" 

Ron spluttered in mid sip and put his mug down. "What d'you wanna go and ask that for?"

Neville started to fidget with a biscuit shaped like a snowflake. "Well, you were so... together... you know, at the end of... after..." he trailed off meaningfully.

"She wanted to take a break. I mean, you know she had to use an unforgivable at Gringott's. We had... you know, a few... er... evenings... and then she went to Australia and found her parents, and when she came back, she said she wanted to take a week or two to think things over because she was... was having a hard time with... you know." Ron's mug came back up to his lips for a long pull, steam still rising gently from it in the flickering firelight. "A week or two turned into a month, and then another month, and then four months... I thought I'd give her as long as she needed, but..." Another long, soothing pull at his mug. "Maybe Harry will be good for her. Malf... Draco says if it's been that long and she hasn't asked me to... you know, hasn't asked me. He says she wouldn't have even if Harry..." Ron sighed heavily and drained his mug in a long pull before setting it down and resting his chin on the table, eyeing the cookies like they'd done something rude to him. "But... it wasn't... When you go through something like we did with somebody, sometimes it just changes things. It was incredible to be with her out there, when we were in the tent, running away from... from V-Voldemort. But without... I mean, it sounds crazy, but without the... you know, when nobody was liable to come 'round and kill us, she was just the girl from school that I had a crush on. I mean, amazing for a fling, but we were already starting... you know, with her studying... she always used to annoy the piss out of me."

"I wondered how you stood that," Neville admitted.

Ron sat up to make a gormless face at the table.

"Yes, Ron, I know your studying face. You realize she never once bought that you were actually studying?"

"Why'd she make me do it, then?" Ron protested.

"Because you're cute when you're clueless," Neville replied, taking a bite of his cookie. After a moment, he realized he'd just called _Ron Weasley_ cute, _to his face,_ and considered curling up in a little ball and rolling into the fire, except the elves would definitely rescue him and there would be lots of oh-no-sir-ing and oh-dear-ing and getting of Professor McGonagall, and Neville very much didn't want that. Ron was staring at him with a raised eyebrow (there was no way he hadn't learned to do that from The Twins), and it was beginning to be very uncomfortable. Eventually, Neville blurted out "insofar as you are cute--"

"Don't take it back," Ron said. "I didn't know you thought that, but it's better to just leave it out, right?" Ron picked through the plates to find a cookie that he liked, and, apparently failing in that endeavor, stole the snowflake Neville had been fidgeting with. When he was done with that, he said "Am I cute all the time, or just when I pretend to study?"

Neville felt himself blushing fiercely. He downed the rest of his cocoa, squirmed a little, and said "All... all the time. I mean, you're way tall, but nobody's perfect, right?"

"Right," Ron agreed. "What's the cutest thing about me?" He was smiling--oh, Merlin, he was _smiling,_ like the whole thing was fun instead of _completely mortifying,_ and Neville was giving serious thought to running screaming from the room.

"Erm... your... um... well, your eyes do this thing when you're... you know, studying for real... where they get sort of intense and focus-ey."

Ron picked out a little finger-sandwich from the plate of heartier fare. "I guess I'll have to study for real more often." He finished his sandwich and leaned back in his chair. "We ought to go back up to the dormitory."

Neville nodded, all too happy to flee. When they reached the Fat Lady ("peppermint"), Ron held out a hand to help Neville through, and when Neville was only about half over the threshold, he said "Hey Neville... Are you visiting your gran on Christmas?" Neville nodded. "What time?"

"I was going to be there all day."

"I'm going to head out to home for the day with Harry and Hermione. You want to pop in for a bit?"

"I thought you were fighting--"

"I'm going to apologize to Harry," Ron said quickly. "Make up with him. You know."

"I'll think about it," Neville said.

"All right. We'd love to have you, though."

Neville grinned at Ron and headed up the stairs towards the dormitory. As he retreated, he could swear he heard Draco say "very smooth, Weasley."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just looked at my next prompt, and I haven't a clue what to do with it yet. Ah well... I'll figure it out, I'm sure.I seem to be posting this at two chapters a day, so there's that.


	5. Advent Calendar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just spent a couple of hours handmaking stocking stuffers for my friends. Felt good to do it, and they all turned out pretty well.
> 
> Also: Mannheim Steamroller is awesome.

Ron chased Harry down to "apologize" and "give him his blessing" for dating Hermione in the morning. Even though they hadn't really been fighting, it felt good to make up. They hugged in front of the whole Great Hall. Malfoy yelled "Kiss!" from the sparsely-filled end of the Slytherin table. 

There was a lot of laughter at that, and Harry winked. "I'll take a rain check on that," he quipped, heading down toward their usual seat.

For the first couple of minutes, Ron wondered if Neville was going to sit with him the way he had while he and Harry were "fighting." After all, He and Harry were talking again, and sitting together, and his conversation with Neville the night before had gotten... a little weird toward the end. Being told he was cute was nice, and flirting a little had felt like the right thing to do, but in the cold light of morning, he wasn't entirely certain he hadn't overstepped his bounds. What if Neville hadn't been pointing out that Ron was sometimes cute so much as confessing to a crush? Ron poked at the sausage and gravy on his breakfast plate a little sullenly. Hermione had once accused him of having the emotional range of a teaspoon, but that wasn't true. He knew how he felt, and he was at least usually aware of how other people felt, but he had a horrible habit of acting on impulse. It was like Neville had said last night: he was a little impulsive, not dumb. And if he had hurt Neville by making a joke out of something that was supposed to be serious, he was going to regret it for days. Maybe for weeks.

On the other hand, he had invited Neville over very sincerely to spend a bit of Christmas with him. Hadn't he made it clear he wanted him around?

But then, since when did he even want Neville around, really? It had always been Ron, Harry, and Hermione, and Neville was in the background somewhere, just a bloke he knew, someone he went to classes with and chatted to sometimes in the hall. Why was he so concerned how Neville felt?

"Sausage, excellent!" Ron looked up sharply at Neville's voice when the other man settled in next to him as though it was where he'd sat every morning of his life. A big grin broke out across his face before he could help himself, and Neville smiled back at him. "I'm late, I know. Had to go send an owl to Gran. Told her I was going to take a few hours to visit with you Christmas afternoon. She won't mind, I'm sure. Goes off to a Yule ceremony every year in the afternoon, anyway. She used to drag me along, and... you all right, Ron?"

Ron realized he was staring, and still grinning. He shook himself and turned back to his plate, starting to eat. He hadn't really noticed, but he was ravenously hungry.

+----+

"Malfoy."

Draco was building a snowman in front of the lake. He paused in the middle of lifting the big midsection of the construction's body to turn towards Ron's call. There were already three other snowmen gathered in a circle around what looked like a pile of snow enchanted to burn with cold fire. "Afternoon, Ron! Any luck figuring out your Secret Santa gift?"

Ron shook his head. It occurred to him that he hadn't really _tried_ all that much. He'd been too busy making friends with Neville to figure out what to get him for Christmas. "I wanted to talk to you about that spell you used, Malfoy."

Draco nodded seriously. "It's a very important spell," he said. "It makes the whole thing work, after all."

"Does it do anything you didn't tell me about?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked curiously, bending down to lift up the snowman's middle again. He set it down and added "Do you want to help? I need eight more of these guys for the Yule bonfire."

"Sure." Ron started rolling the base for a new snowman. "It's just, I never really thought about Nev--about Longbottom all that much one way or the other. Now I can't... I can't stop." The admission had him blushing to his ears.

"You've just spent a couple of days only hanging out with him," Draco noted. "That sounds pretty normal to me."

"Are you sure?"

Draco put the finishing touches on his snowman with a flourish of his wand. "What are you looking for, Ron? Do you want me to reassure you that it will all be all right? Or are you trying to talk yourself out of how you're feeling?"

"I'm not feeling any... how. There's no how I'm feeling. I don't--"

"Relax, Weasley," Draco laughed.

+----+

Neville kept an Advent calendar on his bedside table every Christmas. Ron stared at it with just a little touch of sullenness. It wasn't that Draco was right, but then, Draco wasn't exactly wrong, either. There was definitely something going on. The dormitory door opened, and Neville came in, laughing merrily with Dean and Seamus. It was getting on towards bedtime. Ron got up to get changed into his pajamas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wound up using the prompt for a little scene at the end to make a nice transition instead of adding it to the main scene. The next prompt on the lift I've got is "gingerbread," but I've already done Christmas cookies, so I'm changing that one. Up next: Mistletoe.


	6. Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing this chapter with Hermione because you're not the boss of me, that's why.

Hermione came into the common room accompanied by the sound of bells. Harry had promised to head out to Hogsmeade with her today, where they would be able to pick up Secret Santa gifts, and probably spend some time hanging about at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head (although Harry didn't enjoy the Hog's Head much since people started flocking to it as "the gateway to the Battle of Hogwarts"). She glanced around, smiling vaguely at all the Christmas cheer. The common room was always a little decorated, but Draco was apparently used to more, because it was so Christmas inside that she wondered if there had maybe been nine reindeer and a jolly fat man having a manic episode with a wand and a closet full of garland. The jingling of bells she heard was apparently emerging from behind the tree, and she circled the huge fir to find Draco sitting on a broomstick near the ceiling, slowly letting down a ball of mistletoe in a spot that people tended to pass through, but which could be avoided with some effort. 

Feeling a little cheeky, most likely from the very abundance of cheer Draco was creating, she took four steps forward and stood directly under the mistletoe, smiling as sweetly as she could up at him. He winced. "Granger, that's a trick mistletoe."

Her smile fell. "Trick mistletoe?"

"I got it from George Weasley's shop. It's just put a... you know, words... on your face."

Hermione pulled out her wand to conjure a mirror and rolled her eyes. The words "kiss me, I'm beautiful" were scrawled untidily across her forehead. "Get rid of it, Draco," she snapped. "I won't have a decoration up that puts things on people's faces."

"It doesn't hit minors," Draco explained, bringing his broom down in front of her. "And you can get rid of the words." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You just have to, er... snog someone?"

Hermione sighed, fixing Draco with a withering look. "You have to snog someone."

Draco nodded. "You... probably don't want to snog m--" she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away from the mistletoe, kissing him thoroughly. She could feel the tingle of the words vanishing from her forehead, and pulled back from Draco, smirking. He was flushed and dazed, with a stunned, brainless look on his face. "You can really snog," he noted after a while. "That wasn't a... you know, a real one? Because... I don't..."

Hermione's smirk grew even wider, and she guided him to underneath the mistletoe again until the words "aren't I just so kissable" appeared on his forehead. She nodded once in satisfaction, pulled him closer again, and leaned so that their brows were touching. Inches from his face, Hermione whispered "do you want it to be, Draco?"

"Erm... a little," he replied quietly. 

Hermione gripped him by the waist, pressed their bodies tight together, and hissed "too bad. I'm going to make you wear those words all day." She pushed him back under the mistletoe and laughed a bit at the flabbergasted look on his face. "Remove the enchantment."

Draco drew his wand and started working. "That was a bit cruel, Granger."

She shook her head. "You honestly want to snog me?"

He shrugged "A bit? You're... I wouldn't exactly object to your wanting a fling, but I don't know if a real... relationship would work."

Hermione scoffed. "Of course it wouldn't, Draco. For Merlin's sake, I was tortured in your house a few months ago. Can you imagine how awful that would be?"

He blushed a bit. The mistletoe twitched, glowed, and shook. "I know. But just a fling... could be fun."

"What about Seamus?" Hermione asked. "He's completely head over heels for you, you know."

"Well, it's obviously not a good time for you and I to have a fling." Draco put his wand away and turned in a circle, assessing the room silently. A yawn from the direction of the boys' dorms turned Hermione's head. Seamus was stepping bleary-eyed from the stairs. Hermione caught his eye and gestured to Draco, who had his back turned, both hands up and tracing out what would probably be the next batch of garland, then she pointed to the mistletoe. Seamus' eyes lit up. He crossed the room in quick steps, grabbed Draco, and kissed him thoroughly. Draco's eyes fluttered closed, and Hermione smiled when the words faded from his face. Seamus had never even seen them, but maybe that was a good trade-off: Seamus being happy for Draco not getting humiliated.

The couple moved towards the sofa, bumping into the tree once, just hard enough that Seamus wound up with tinsel on his backside before he could drag Draco down onto the cushioned sofa. Hermione laughed a little, just enough to make them stop and look over at her. She shrugged and started toward the portrait hole to get out, only to be stopped by a voice behind her. "Hermione!" She whirled in place. Harry was already showered and dressed, which he usually wasn't when he came down to the common room. She knew he preferred to be lazy for a while in the morning when he had the choice. He crossed to her, skirting past Draco's tree, frowned around the room, and then aimed a thumb over his shoulder at where Draco and Seamus had just resumed snogging on the sofa. "I reckon it you know what happened there?"

Hermione nodded. "Draco set up one of those awful enchanted mistletoes George is selling. I got caught under it, then I got Draco stuck under for revenge."

Harry sighed. "And he snogged you to get rid of it, but you didn't do the same for him, and then Seamus came in?"

Hermione nodded. "Yup. But I got Draco to remove the spell on it."

Harry grinned. "Was that before or after he got you under it again?"

Hermione gasped, slapping a hand to her forehead as though she could feel the words there. Harry chuckled. "Don't try to outwit Draco. D'you have any idea how many tricks he's pulled on me since he started living up here? The man is non-stop."

Hermione sighed heavily. She began to call for Draco to help her, but didn't get any further than "Dra" before Harry pressed a finger to his lips.

"I can help," he said, "but we ought to do this proper." He took her shoulders, guided her to the mistletoe, and planted a little kiss on her cheek. He pulled back, looked her over, frowned, and placed a slightly chaste kiss on her lips. When that didn't work, he kissed her a little more deeply, pulled back, and smiled. "Well, I'm turning you a very attractive shade of red, but the words--"

Hermione pulled him in close and kissed him again. If her kiss with Draco had been "thorough," then this was somewhere between "fierce" and "needy." Her skin tingled, first where the words vanished, then sort of generally all over. She'd thought about it before, about kissing Harry beyond just little pecks on the cheek because they were friends and friends did that sort of thing, but when Ron suggested his little ruse for Neville (Ron really shouldn't try to plot, it didn't work very well), she hadn't been able to stop herself thinking about it. Ron was loyal and strong, but Harry was sweet and kind and even-tempered, and she had wondered if, with Ginny and all, he would be forever beyond her reach. She recalled her mother telling her that the best thing in the world was to be married to your best friend, but Hermione had two best friends, and this...

Harry pulled away from her. "Wow."

Hermione nodded. She glanced past him, hoping they hadn't just embarrassed each other in front of anyone (Draco and Seamus didn't count, especially given that Seamus was now in Draco's lap and headed swiftly for being scolded by a prefect), and she spotted Dennis Creevey standing a little shocked at the bottom of the stairs to the boys' dorms. Neville and Ron stood two steps up, Neville's hand gripping Ron's arm. Ron shook off Neville and bounded down the remaining stairs, crossed the room with long strides, and Hermione bit at her bottom lip. Harry started a little when he saw Ron.

"Er... h'lo Ron," Harry began. "I... er..."

Ron grabbed Harry by the arm and vanished around the tree with him. A curious buzzing in her ears took a few moments to identify as a muffling charm, and then Harry emerged, offered Hermione his arm, and smiled like he'd been named King of the World. "What did he say?" Hermione hissed as they walked together towards the portrait hole. "What did _you_ say?"

"He had some advice," Harry told her as they stepped through. "And he said to ask him if I was having trouble with you. I was expecting the fight of a lifetime."

Hermione blinked. She glanced back through the portrait hole before Martha (how the boys could go seven years without learning the portrait's name, she never knew) could swing completely shut. Neville could be seen smiling and chatting to Ron, who had a soft smile of his own, his eyes fixed on Neville's. "I think maybe he has his eye on someone else," Hermione told Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that "shameless fluff" tag up there? It goes, like, quadruple for this chapter.


	7. Christmas Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In any fic I write where Seamus and Dean aren't together, you can expect that at least one of them is heterosexual, but they are still in love with each other because THEY ARE MY BABIES AND THEY BELONG TOGETHER.
> 
> I mean because I like it that way better.

By the time Seamus got to Hogsmeade, he was beaming with happiness. The snow was getting a little worn down, mushed into the path towards the village, and the cold air nipped at his nose. He had Draco helping him to pick out his Secret Santa gift, and once that was done (with some giggling from Draco that Seamus didn't quite understand, but which he figured would be explained in due time), they went to the Three Broomsticks. Harry and Hermione were there, snuggled up together in a booth. Vaguely Seamus wondered when they had gotten together. He dragged Draco over to his favorite table, and Madam Rosmerta appeared in short order. She was wearing a truly awful bright green sweater that contended in vain with her ample bosom. A richly red Santa Claus looked much worse for wear after the stretching he'd received from the barmaid's anatomy.

"Getting the usual, Seamus?" she asked.

Seamus shook his head. "Two butterbeers, hot, and a pork and apple pie," he smiled radiantly at her, twitching his head in the general direction of Draco.

Madam Rosmerta smiled right back at him. "Excellent, Seamus." She dropped a hand onto Draco's shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. "You know, you have Seamus to thank for a lot of things, but probably the biggest is the way he feels about you."

As she walked out, Draco turned bright red. "She's never going to forgive me for using the Imperius curse on her."

Seamus reached across the table to grab his hand. "Probably not," he admitted, "but she loves me, and she knows I'd be upset if you weren't allowed in here."

"That's what she meant?"

"That's part of it." Seamus leaned over the table to kiss Draco. "There's also the bit about how you get to snog me."

They chatted and kissed and were cuddled next to each other when Dean came in, talking loudly and laughing happily with Ron and Neville. He spotted Seamus and Draco, said a cheerful farewell to his companions, and hurried up to sit across from Seamus. "'Lo, Seamus. Malfoy."

Draco tensed. "Hello, Dean."

Seamus sighed. Dean and Draco were always a little standoffish when they had to interact directly with each other. Hermione had made an effort with him at Harry's insistence, but Dean had stubbornly refused to reconcile after the trauma of being trapped in Draco's basement. Dean sat there awkwardly for a few moments, huddled under his robe, then sighed and shucked it off, revealing a sweater awful enough to compete with Madam Rosmerta's. It was maroon, with knitted reindeer and tree baubles and what might have been strands of actual tinsel in it. "Well, Malfoy," Dean said. "Looks like you've bagged yourself the best boy at Hogwarts."

"Dean," Seamus began, sitting up straight.

Dean held up one hand to forestall him. "You know, Seamus has never quite forgiven me for being straight, and if I could be what he needed, you wouldn't even be in the picture." Dean leaned back, his sweater glinting in the amber light of the pub. "I love Seamus like a brother, only closer and with fewer fights. If you hurt him, I'll come after you. And I want you to know that I won't be alone."

"Should I be afraid?" Draco drawled sarcastically. Seamus put a warning hand on his arm. He looked down at the table, then back up at Dean. "Sorry. I just... I know you don't have much reason to trust me, but I... I really like Seamus. A lot. I didn't think he was ever going to actually be with me, because I thought he'd be... too loyal to you. I want--"

"Honesty, Malfoy," Dean interrupted.

Draco stumbled over his next couple of words, and then gave what he'd said some obviously very serious thought. He turned to Seamus. "He's right, Seamus. I don't like you. I... I love you."

Seamus kissed him. "Good. I love you. I thought... I thought it might be too soon--"

Dean burst out laughing. "Too soon!? You two have been so obviously in love it made me a little ill since the start of November! You remember that night Harry brought Draco in after midnight, and he was bleeding from that curse Pansy sent at him?"

Draco grimaced, and then immediately smiled softly. "And Seamus spent all night sitting up with me to be sure I wouldn't fall asleep, in case I had a concussion." He kissed Seamus gently. "I guess that's when I knew."

"That's when everybody knew, Malfoy," Dean said drily. "I think half the school thought you'd shagged. Ron started avoiding your couch until Hermione did a spell to find out when the last time somebody had sex on it was. Ninety-seven, by the way."

"Ew," Draco and Seamus chimed together.

"It might have been Harry and Ginny, if the look on their faces when Hermione told Ron about it meant anything," Dean added.

Seamus smiled. This was all going better than he had expected. A little yelp of dismay turned his head. Neville was dragging Ron out of the Three Broomsticks by one hand, laughing at Ron's objections as they got out the door.

"I wonder when those two are going to figure it out?" Seamus added.

Draco watched them going by out the window. "Not long," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That common room has seen some untoward shit. Also, protective Dean is best Dean.


	8. Ferris Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one where I had to fake the prompt up a bit. I searched for christmassy images and eventually came across the London Eye all lit up and looking pretty. Sadly, our boys are a year and change away from that being a possibility, but I kept with the basic idea.

"I don't see why you have to drag _me_ there," Ron protested as Neville dragged him out into the street. The sun had set, and frosty air hit Ron's lungs like a deep breath full of needles. Neville had a hold of his wrist, dragging him forcibly through the streets.

The snow in Hogsmeade was seriously deteriorated. Between dirt from the streets mixed into it and the mildness of the day followed by the cold of the night, it had gone grainy and ugly. What was left on the rooftops was a little battered by birds landing on it and the occasional cat chasing after them. Neville pulled Ron into the middle of an intersection. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course. Why?"

Neville apparated, dragging Ron with him. "I've never side-alonged anyone before."

Ron took a moment to be sure his limbs were all still present before he looked around. They were in Diagon Alley, where a fresh snow was falling in huge flakes that settled on the shops and the people. Gringotts glittered ostentatiously at the end of the street, Flourish and Blott's advertised a Christmas sale on its entire fiction stock, and Ron's jaw dropped a bit as he saw what was behind George's shop.

It rose at least a hundred feet overhead, lit up by dazling fairy lights in red, blue, yellow, and green, with flashes of white and purple and all other colors here and there. It spun lazily in the free space behind Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but had to take up more room than just that. The wheel (he remembered Hermione pointing one out that they were building over London a few days before she left for Australia to find her parents) put out music that drifted, festival-bright, over the shops. It was playing "Carol of the Bells" as they watched.

Neville tugged on Ron's arm, dragging him into George's store.

"Evening, Ronniekins," George said as they entered. His teasing always seemed lackluster since the war, but he was making an honest and mostly-successful effort today. George was decked out in a bright Christmas sweater, with pockets added apparently for the express purpose of bulging with sweets, and a Father Christmas hat. "I guess you're here for the ferris wheel?"

"I think so?" Ron said. "Is that what that thing out back is called?"

George nodded. "Not really making a profit on it, but the money it takes in goes to people whose shops got destroyed around there. Got them all to agree to it. They said it sounded wonderful." He waved at them to follow him. "You must have been waiting pretty eagerly to come see it, Neville. Just opened up yesterday. Line went all the way past Gringotts." He paused occasionally, waiting for someone to fill in the second half of whatever thought he was having, but of course there was no one to fill it in.

Neville stopped them unexpectedly and hugged George. "You all right?"

George nodded stiffly. "I'll be fine. It's just... you know, my first Christmas without... I'll be fine. I'm happy when everyone else is happy."

"You're allowed to not," Neville said, so quietly Ron could barely hear him.

George choked back a few tears and squeezed Neville. "I know. The healers all said... that I'm... you know, I'm allowed. I mean it, though. When everyone else is happy, it helps. I'm glad you're here. And you brought Ron."

He led them through a door that hadn't been there when Ron last visited. The space behind the shop had been made into a sort of open parkland. The ferris wheel took up a good chunk of it, but not all. A few booths sold things that smelled delicious, wafting scents of cinnamon and dough and sugar and gravy through the semi-confined space. Sparkling fairy lights, paled in comparison to the magnificence of the wheel, were scattered liberally around the open space. George took them to the front of the line. "First one's on me, Neville. Show him a wonderful time, will you?"

Neville shot a brilliant smile at George, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and Ron thought maybe from a little blush, in which he joined Neville when George gestured the people at the front of the line aside with a loud "All right people, move over. Make way for young love."

"George," Ron growled, "We're not--"

George shoved them forward onto the platform where the young operator (Ron thought he recognized Stan Shunpike from the Knight Bus) brought a gondola to a smooth stop. The older couple on it got off and George shoved Ron and Neville on together. 

"Thank you, young man," the old man who'd been there said. "Haven't ridden a broom in years. Forgot how much I hate heights."

"Big brother knows best, Ronniekins. You two go 'round as many times as you want. Just wave to Stan when you want to get off. Stan, make sure they stop at the top once or twice, yeah?" He closed the little door on them and the wheel started turning. At first, Ron was furious, but then he looked around and the mottled red flush of anger gave way to wonder. The whole of Diagon Alley was spread out below him, fat snowflakes drifting around in light breezes. Lines of lights and the tiny figures of late-evening shoppers were softened by distance and the snow that was slowly building up on the rooftops. When Neville took his hand, Ron barely noticed. He turned 'round and 'round, and saw London itself spread on the other side from Diagon Alley, not much of it, of course, since they weren't that high up, but enough. In the distance, he could even see the ferris wheel they were building on the Thames. He pointed it out excitedly to Neville, and Neville pointed to a couple of London's other big Muggle landmarks, then they dipped below the rooftops again and Ron sighed.

"This was a pretty good idea, Neville. Sorry for my brother. He's been a bit weird since..." The wheel stopped and Ron watched as people were unloaded and loaded onto the gondolas.

"I don't mind," Neville said. "He just wants us to be happy."

"But that can't have been comfortable," Ron objected.

Neville shrugged. "I don't mind. I mean, if it bothered you, I can talk to him."

Ron leaned back. Neville discovered a level that rotated their gondola so they were facing the other way, and they went around one stop at a time, until they paused at the top for what seemed like a very long time. The wheel on the Thames lay still incomplete, a little graceless, but potentially very beautiful. A cold wind blew snow at them, and Neville cuddled in close to Ron.

Ron curled an arm around Neville and turned to look at him. Their eyes met. They both smiled a bit awkwardly. Ron leaned towards Neville, and their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss that felt like it was going to last forever. No tongue, none of the intense, needy gasping and touches that had come with kissing Hermione. Just the simple, sweet contact of lips on lips, of Neville's arms stealing around him, warm in the cold air. Ron pulled back as the wheel started moving again.

They went around two more times before Neville waved to Stan. Their hands were twined together. "Back to Hogwarts?" Neville asked.

Ron shook his head. "Let's try some of these shops." He pulled Neville close. "No reason to let the evening end too quickly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was sweet. It was _saccharine,_ and oozing with unmitigated sweetness and love and light and I think I have to go watch Revenge of the Sith to remind myself that there is also sadness in the world.


	9. Christmas Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided on going to just twelve chapters for this. I was originally going to use all 24 of the prompts I had, but... y'know... fuck that.

Ginny was leading the seventh year girls in a boisterous, slightly tipsy rendition of Sleigh Ride. When Neville slipped in through the portrait hole behind Ron, still red-cheeked from the cold air outside and the kiss he and Ron had shared on the stairs up to the common room, he sniffed and smiled at the smell of mulled wine in the air. Draco Malfoy was humming along with the girls, joining in at various points in the song. He cuddled with Seamus on his sofa, kissing the other man from time to time.

Dennis Creevey sat talking intently with Harry in the corner. Hermione read a book nearby, sitting so that she could reach out and rest her stockinged feet on Harry's Harry's lap. Ron tugged on Neville's hand to drag him over to one of the sofas, but it was almost instantly apparent that they were all occupied. One had a whole gaggle of first years playing a card game, one was playing host to a fifth year couple who were being very indecorous about their snogging, and one had Dean Thomas napping in it. Ron looked about ready to turf Dean out of his napping spot when Lavender sat down on Dean's legs. Dean sat bolt upright and immediately started laughing when Lavender threw a candy cane at him. 

"We could go up to the dorm," Neville suggested.

Ron shook his head. "I'm not ready to... I mean, I need to think before... if we go up there, all alone, I won't... I won't stop."

Neville blushed. "Neither will I. I'm ready, but if you aren't, then we shouldn't."

Ron pulled Neville around to the window Draco had magicked the Christmas tree through. "I want to," he said quietly, leaning against Neville so that their foreheads rested on each other. "You... I think I've been... I mean, since I started... ah, damn... since I... mmf... Dammit..."

"Since you got me in the Secret Santa," Neville filled in helpfully. Ron nodded.

"Since I did... that thing... I've spent more time with you all at once than I think I ever did, and I love it. But this is all happening so fast." Ron squeezed Neville's hand. "We should try to take it a little slower."

"How slow?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Ron said. "Slower than I did with Lavender, but not as slow as Hermione?"

"So not shagging the first time we're alone together, but not utterly glacial," Neville snarked, kissing the end of Ron's nose to take the sting out of the words.

"Pretty much. I mean, I've never had a boyfriend, and only the two girlfriends--"

"Ron, it's okay," Neville said. "I like you. A lot. I think you like me, too. Don't worry so much."

"He's right," Draco said, wandering up from behind them. "I'm guessing the ferris wheel worked?"

Nevilled nodded. "Thanks for mentioning it."

"It's not all me," Draco admitted. "Ginny's the one who thought Ron might need a little push."

The slightly shocked look on Ron's face was priceless. Nevilled kissed him one more time just because he could. "Don't look too scandalized, Ron. Everyone's thought it was going to happen for a couple of days now. They just want you to be happy."


	10. Reindeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna suck trying to work this prompt into this.

Neville kept his hands to himself for the next few days except when Ron made moves. It seemed to work out pretty well, but Ron was... definitely getting hornier. When the non-eighth-years going home for the holiday left, the lack of distractions got even worse. Ginny wasn't there to tease her big brother about his boyfriend, Dennis Creevey wasn't hanging around the common room like he usually did, there was no Luna Lovegood to giggle at, and it all added up to silence that was way to easy to fill with thoughts of Neville, or talk with Neville, or just... Neville in general. Ron really, really _did_ want to be a lot more intimate, but somehow it just didn't feel like the right moment to go further.

He still hadn't thought of what he could get Neville for Christmas, and it was a little maddening. It wasn't that it was hard to shop for his boyfriend (it was strange, but sort of thrilling, to think of Neville that way) so much as that it was hard to shop for him without shopping _just_ for Neville. Finally, after lunch on the twenty-first, he told Neville he was going to head home a couple of days early.

"It's not a problem with us, is it?" Neville asked as they stood in the Entrance Hall early on the twenty-second.

Ron shook his head. "No. No, Nev, it's just I still have some shopping to do, and I think I need help picking out presents."

Neville frowned. "Ron, I know your family doesn't exactly have much--"

"We have more than you think," Ron said. "Bellatrix Lestrange was worth about four hundred galleons dead, and my helping Harry during the war got me a lot of thank you money from Light groups. Don't worry about money." He leaned in for a quick kiss. "Besides, I'm a Weasley. We get by."

Neville squeezed him and fixed him with a look of deep affection. "Think of me every day, then. That's all I want."

Ron grinned. "Every day. And every night." He cupped Neville's butt as he took one more kiss. "Harry is going to have to sleep in someone else's room Christmas Eve." Neville grinned at the reminder of the way their Christmas plans had mutated and expanded over the last few days. He would be spending Christmas Eve with Ron at the Burrow, and then Christmas morning with Ron's family, then dragging Ron to spend the day with his Gran, then Boxing Day had somehow wound up being at Dean Thomas' house with everyone from the DA, plus Draco, where there would be a Secret Santa exchange for everyone, the rest of the DA having followed along when they heard that Draco had started a Secret Santa with the Gryffindors. That meant that Ron had four days to get Neville's Secret Santa gift, if he counted Christmas Eve and Christmas day.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," Neville said. He stole another kiss, pulling back from it with his eyes closed. "Ron?" he said. Ron smiled curiously. "I love you, Ron," Neville said.

Ron turned bright red and Neville just smiled a little broader. "Finally speechless." He took one last kiss and left Ron with a slowly growing growing grin.

+----+

"I think it's wonderful," Molly said as she bustled into the fifth shop of the day with Ron. The experience of having a decent amount of money for holiday shopping was fairly novel, and Ron was maybe going just a little overboard. Molly had already made him put back several things because he'd gotten their intended recipients two gifts and they didn't need to be drowned under piles of this and that. She'd kept up a constant and very motherly stream of chatter while they shopped, and seemed to have circled back around to the subject of Neville again. "He's always seemed like such a nice boy, and of course, no one was more surprised than me and your father when you told us you were dating him, but the way you _smiled..."_ She sighed as though to add a wistful "young love." 

Ron already had one gift for Neville that he intended to give him on the night of Christmas Eve, and one that Neville would receive on Christmas morning, and a third for at his Gran's house (Molly had told him bluntly that a first Christmas together meant as many as seven gifts were permissible) but he didn't have a Secret Santa present yet. Which was what brought him to Casstage's Quality Jewelers. Maybe, Ron thought, if he could find something here that he would love to see Neville wearing, it would satisfy the weird itching of Malfoy's spell in the back of his head. He looked around, and let out a little gasp. Now that... that was perfect.

+----+

Charlie had arrived by the time Ron got back to the Burrow with Molly. "Ronniekins!" he yelled. Ron groaned as his brother swept out of the house and grabbed bags of shopping off his arms. "Don't worry, I won't peek. I hear you have a boyfriend now!"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Neville Longbottom."

"That's the fit one that killed Old Moldy's snake, right?" Charlie started up the stairs, carrying half of Ron's bags. "Well, as your older brother, I'll be giving you advice. We're going out to that little Christmas thing they've set up in the village. Shock all those rural muggles with our talk of blokes dating blokes." He kicked open the door of Ron's room. The bright orange Chudley Cannons posters on the walls were half torn down, and Charlie stopped and stared. "Heavens, you're nesting."

"Charlie," Ron hissed. "Don't--"

"Sorry, it's just... you didn't take down so much as a pennant for Hermione." Charlie set the bags on Ron's bed. "At least you kept the Cannons sheets. I'd have worried if you'd got rid of those."

"Nev doesn't support Chudley," Ron mumbled. "Didn't want him to feel too surrounded, you know?"

"That's very mature of you," Charlie said. Ron edged past him to drop the rest of his shopping, and Charlie grabbed him by the arm to haul him back out of the house. "Now come on, is Neville Longbottom the one that killed the snake, or was that Seamus Finnigan? I need to know how much swooning I ought to be prepared to do."

"He killed the snake," Ron said. "You like blokes?"

Charlie chuckled. "I like everyone. You remember that boy Craig that used to come 'round when I was in school? Loved to share out candy with all you little ones?" Charlie grabbed a couple of ginger nuts off the table and handed one off to Ron with a shouted "thanks, Mum!"

"I think I remember him," Ron said. Charlie held the door for him and let it bang shut behind them. "He was the one Percy hated, right?"

Charlie nodded, grinning. "Yeah. I liked that about him." He took a bite of his ginger nut, reminding Ron he'd been handed one as well. "Well, he and I were shagging pretty regular. Dated for real a bit in fifth year. Er, and seventh. And he caught up with me last month and we had a fling. Got quite domestic, him living in my house and all."

Ron choked a little. "You didn't shag him here, did you? Only, your room's right above mine, and I--"

"Down that road lies madness, Ronniekins." Charlie grabbed his arm to apparate them into Ottery st. Catchpole proper. Ron gasped. The Christmas festival could be seen in the distance. They chatted about boyfriends and relationships on the way there. 

There was a Santa Claus presiding merrily over a pen full of reindeer, which were all quite friendly, presumably used to being fed by visitors. Ron patted one on the nose. "I finally found what I wanted to get him at Casstage's," he admitted, relating the stressful story of Draco Malfoys Secret Santa challenge.

Chalie's eyes got very big. "Casstage's? Ron, asking him to marry you would be a very bad idea this soon."

The reindeer snuffled at Ron's hand as though there might be food there that hadn't been before. Ron shook his head. "It was a little tempting, I'll admit, but that's not what I did. I'm not completely mental." A muggle woman was giving them a dirty look nearby.

"There are _children_ here, you perverts," she declared. "Discussing that sort of immorality in public--"

Charlie waved his fingers at her and her mouth snapped shut. She turned to look stiffly at the reindeer. "Let's go," Charlie said.

+----+

Ron greeted Neville with a toe-curling kiss on the morning of Christmas Eve, and introduced him around the family. Charlie made a show of leering at Neville, who smirked and clung pointedly to Ron. Percy welcomed Neville officiously to the family as though he and Ron had been dating for months instead of days, and Arthur made every attempt to embarrass Ron to death, even offering Neville a tour of his collection of muggle things ("I just got a new one, it's called a fireplug. I think they use it to move fires around, since they use normal plugs to move that eckletrickity stuff.")

The boisterousness of the Weasley family had Neville running for shelter by noon. Not that he was obvious about it, but he definitely wanted to be away from everyone but Ron, so he suggested they go snog in Ron's room.

Ron led him laughingly up the stairs, but he kept the door open. "We're not going to have our first time because a snog got out of hand," he insisted.

Neville nodded, and they napped together after the snog. Christmas Eve dinner was shared with Harry and Hermione, who cuddled up to sleep on the couch when everyone was getting drowsy at the end of the night. Ron took Neville up to his room for the second time and pulled his first present out from under the bed as he closed the door. Neville grinned at the wrapping. "How many things are you getting me?"

"Just four, but they're all really good," Ron said.

Neville looked at the unopened package and smiled, tossing it to the bed to pull Ron into a fierce kiss. 

"You want to open that first," Ron said when Neville gave him a moment to breathe.

"All right," Neville said. "But I love you."

"I love you too," Ron answered, and as Neville picked up the present, the tag silently echoed the sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie just charmed the bigoted lady so she'll feel sort of generally unwell for a while if she looks at a wizard. It's not exactly super-prosecutable, but it is a bit rude to do in a place with as many magicals as Ottery st. Catchpole.
> 
> I have no idea where Arthur got a fireplug. 
> 
> All my prompts are on one image, so this chapter is mostly planned to lead into the next prompt.


	11. Christmas Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now "Men's lingerie" is on my Google Search history.
> 
> ... Actually, you can get some pretty hot pictures out of that search.
> 
> Anyway, with that prompt, you can sure bet this chapter starts with some serious smut.

Neville smiled a little broader at the label on the tag. No name, nothing fancy to identify it as specifically a Christmas present, just plain red paper and "I love you, too" in a gorgeous, flowing script. 

"I'll be honest, I probably could have given you this for Seeee... for Scre... stupid Malfoy." Neville giggled a bit at the way Ron struggled against the Secret Santa spell. "I just figured it wouldn't be appropriate."

Neville popped open the paper where it was spello-taped. The first time Ron gave him a Christmas gift. He was half-tempted to save the paper. When he opened it, it was a tiny box, almost like a ring would come in, not as velvety or quite so small, but the same shape and really very nice. Ron kept babbling, obviously nervous.

"I mean, if I wanted to give you something that I would enjoy you having as much as you would... but then, I mean, I got a matching one for me."

Neville opened the box. Inside was a tightly wound ball of red fabric. A single green stripe ran across it, diagonally. He pulled it out and watched, wide-eyed, as it expanded out into a pair of underwear, doubtless designed to be tight and to leave little--or nothing--to the imagination. They were holiday-themed, the red fabric wound through with green and white, drawing Neville's eye to the crotch. "Oh," he whispered. "You have your own?" He was sure he was blushing.

Ron nodded. "If you want to see them, you should model those for me," he suggested. "Go change. I'll wait."

Neville didn't think he had ever been harder in his life than he was hurrying across the hall to change underwear in the bathroom. He couldn't resist the urge to give himself a couple of strokes when his aching dick was finally free, then he quickly put the underwear on, and pants, and hurried back across to Ron's room. Ron was sitting on his bed, framed by a pair of Chudley Cannons posters. The players were watching interestedly to see what was going on outside of their little world. Neville pulled his shirt off as he approached Ron. He tossed it at one of the posters, and the figures scattered from both, apparently getting the message. Next came the pants, and Neville's eyes fixed on Ron's. Both of them seemed to stop breathing a little as Neville got down to the underwear. Ron reached out to pull him down into his lap, kissing fearsomely. He reached under Neville's waistband, but Neville caught his hand. "You get to model for me," he whispered. He shifted so that he was sitting on the bed, his legs spread wantonly. Ron stood, and made a show of stripping, shirt first, and tossed at the other poster with a smirk, then he opened the button on his jeans, dragged down the zipper, and let them fall.

He wasn't wearing anything so form-fitting as he had given to Neville. Instead, his lanky figure had a pair of boxer shorts draped over it, silk-shiny and printed with a pattern of hunky men in Santa suits. The printed hunks made no bones about the fact that they wanted to be able to touch Ron through the fabric. Neville briefly wondered if they'd been modeled after real people. Either way, Ron's erection was prominent and appealing, and perfectly framed by the "pattern" on his boxers. 

"Come here," Neville said huskily. Ron stepped up closer, and Neville reached in to pull his boyfriend's erection through the fly of his boxers. He winked at the men on the underwear. "All mine, boys," he bragged, and then he sank his mouth down over Ron's hard length.

Ron groaned in appreciation. Neville would have been content to listen to Ron gasp and moan all night, but it wasn't long before Ron had pulled back to push him down on his back on the bed. They moved together, kissing and rubbing against each other until they were laid out more or less along the length of the bed. Neville caught a glimpse of the Chudley players back in their posters, pointing and fanning themselves with the loose necks of the quidditch robes or the bristles on their brooms. He found he didn't much care anymore. Ron reached under his waistband again, and this time, Neville let him, let them work each other out of Ron's gift, until they lay nude beside each other, the sensation of skin on skin nothing next to the sensation of _that_ skin on _this_ skin, of lips wandering far afield of lips. For a while, they seemed too lost in the sensations to do anything more, but Neville needed more, so he growled low in his throat, "need you inside me."

Ron fumbled for his wand, but Neville was ahead of him. "Oleus," he whispered, and hissed at the sensation of the spell preparing him. It was the first spell he had learned to do wandlessly, simply because it was hard for a forgetful teen to retrieve a wand from across the room in the middle of a solo session. Ron shivered pleasurably, his knees in between Neville's.

"I didn't know you could do that," he said.

"Fuck me," Neville demanded.

Ron fumbled around for a minute. He slid in slowly, cautiously. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, Ron" Neville groaned. He ground himself down on Ron's shaft, and Ron began to thrust, slowly at first, but getting faster, and faster, and faster. Neville cried out as the sensation began to rise. He was going to finish embarrassingly quickly. Even as he thought it, Ron's rhythm was growing erratic, and then he shoved in deep. Neville could feel his lover's cock pulse inside of him, Ron groaning happily while he pumped Neville full. "Keep going," Neville choked. "Oh, fuck, keep... keep... going."

Ron started his thrusts again, reaching for Neville's erection, but Neville grabbed his hands, gasping harder and louder by the second until he came without a hand laid on his penis. Ron slowly pulled out. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

Neville laughed and rolled to kiss him.

+----+

Neville insisted on wearing Ron's new boxers downstairs on Christmas morning. Ron covered him up with a bathrobe, which didn't do anything to diminish how freshly-fucked they both looked. They'd had sex again in when they woke up, with Ron topping until Neville timidly asked if they could switch. Ron knew his hair was in a Harry-esque state of disarray, but he claimed he really couldn't bring himself to care. He just threw on his best set of Cannons pajamas and let Neville lead him downstairs. Neville piloted them down onto the sofa, which Harry and Hermione had already left. The smell of bacon had Ron going to the kitchen. There was some conversation that Neville couldn't quite hear clearly, and Ron came back with a plate piled high with bacon and eggs. It looked like enough to feed four.

"Harry and Hermione are in there cooking and trying to act like they didn't have sex on the couch," Ron explained. "I got us food."

Neville grabbed a bit of bacon and they munched happily away together while the rest of the family filtered down. Molly tried to scold Harry happily out of the kitchen to let her do her job as the cook of the family, but Harry loudly told her that it was her turn to be fed on Christmas and she came back in looking just slightly tearful at his consideration. Arthur snuggled up to his wife in one of the big armchairs.

Charlie greeted everyone by scrubbing his fingertips across the back of Neville's head. "Lucky dog," he said to Ron. Percy followed not far behind him, settling down in a very unPerciful manner next to the tree, cross-legged and smiling.

Finally, Ginny dragged a complaining George down the stairs. "What if I'd been naked?" George exclaimed.

"In this house?" Ginny laughed. "You know we'd have all laughed at you, and we know you wouldn't be naked unless you had a girl in there with you. Now sit down and have some bacon."

The whole family ate happily as Hermione kept bringing out things Harry had cooked. It turned out Harry was shockingly good in the kitchen, and they had pancakes and hash browns and eggs and toast and jam and tea and it was all so wonderful, Neville almost forgot that it was Christmas until Bill Weasley arrived with his wife, both of them loaded down with packages. 

Bill set down his armload, turned to look at Neville, and said ominously "So you're the bloke who's shagging my littlest brother?" Neville blushed, and Bill hugged him. "Good! I always thought Ronniekins would do better with a boyfriend than a girl." He glanced at Hermione. "No offense, Hermione."

"None taken," Hermione said. "Harry's cuter than Ron, anyhow."

"I agree," Harry said, bringing in one last platterfull of food. "Help yourself, Bill."

"'Ow did you get Molly to let you use ze kitchen?" Bill's wife asked. Neville finally managed to place where he'd seen her before: she was Fleur DeLacour, one of the Triwizard champions from fourth year.

"Imperius curse," Harry said casually, and everyone laughed.

+----+

Neville was clutching his new herbology book, wearing a Weasley sweater (how Molly made them so quickly, he had no idea), and still laughing over George's decision to disrupt the cozy family Christmas by giving both Ron and Harry sex toys and condoms when they arrived at his childhood home. Gran opened the door, and Neville held his breath. This was the meeting he worried about. Gran could be sort of judgemental, and if he was with Ron, there was a good chance the Longbottom name wouldn't continue on. She peered sharply at Ron, then shrugged. "If my grandson is going to end the family name, it might as well be for a hero. I don't think I ever thanked you, young man. I know every makes a big deal out of Harry Potter, but I've read all those interviews. If it weren't for you, Potter'd be dead in a pond someplace, or who knows where else." She pulled him into a hug. "Thank you. And welcome to the family. You realize you're taking the Longbottom name when you marry this boy, right?"

Ron blushed. "Y-yes ma'am," he stammered.

"Good," Gran said. "Merry Christmas. Now come in out of the cold. It's snowing again, and there's presents under the tree."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the fabric store I work at, a fabric arrives seasonally of sexy men dressed appropriately to the upcoming holiday. There's guys in colonial-era romance-novel-cover attire for the Fourth of July, vampires for Halloween, and sexy Santas for Christmas. Ron is definitely wearing a silk version of the sexy Santas.


	12. Christmas Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting Christmas parties tomorrow, so posting this tonight.

The entire DA was gathered, and presents had been exchanged among the non-Malfoy-exchange people. There was plenty of laughter as Luna Lovegood played with a little remote-control airplane outside, zipping it around Dean's back yard. Lights twinkled from everywhere, muggle-style strings of them, in purple and white and green and blue and all the colors Ron could think of. Dean stepped forward as the victims of Draco's original Secret Santa scheme gathered around. 

"As it's my home, I might as well get us started," he announced. He pulled a package from under the tree and passed it to Parvati. She grinned and pulled it open, gasping in delight at the beautifully ornate drawing pad and pencil set inside. "I noticed the way you watch me sketch, and I thought you'd like these," he said.

"It's perfect!" she yelled, and embraced him enthusiastically, even planting a little kiss on his cheek. 

Dean looked over at Hermione, who was nearest to him besides Parvati, and she reached under the tree to present her gift to Lavender: a sturdy jewelry box with ornate scrollwork that, upon close inspection, was the calligraphied words "Studying Anyway" repeated over and over. Lavender giggled and hugged Hermione. Hermione passed a smile and a "get on with it" look to Harry.

Harry reached under the tree for his own package. It was shaped an awful lot like a very, very thick book. "I'd like you to know, Draco, that I thought long and hard about this. I could have got you any number of stupid things, but you would have taken it a little rough, so I put real care into this." He handed it over to Draco, who unwrapped a very battered copy of Advanced Potion-Making, as well as a brand new copy.

Draco flipped through the battered copy and made a scandalized noise. "This is how you impressed Slughorn!"

Harry smirked. "Guilty. Go ahead, Lavender."

Lavender picked up a bright pink package and handed it to Dean, who unwrapped it and raised an eyebrow. "How are you going to enjoy my having a new West Ham shirt, Lavender?"

Lavender smirked. "It's a sleeveless shirt that's supposed to fit tight, and you're a hot boy," she explained, getting a little gale of laughter out of everyone and gesturing to Seamus. Seamus grinned. Ron worked it out in his head and figured Seamus had to have Hermione. He was more than a little surprised, then, when Seamus handed him a hefty package. Ron turned to stare at Neville. "I thought you had me!"

Neville kissed his cheek. "You assumed that when I wanted to hang out with you after you 'made up with' Harry. _I_ never said anything to imply that."

Ron sighed while he opened Seamus' gift, then immediately brightened when he saw what it was. It was a full set of quidditch balls charmed to fit into a conveniently portable box. That made sense, since he and Seamus had played plenty of pickup quidditch games before the weather turned cold. Eighth years weren't allowed to play for their house teams, so it was how the Gryffindor boys kept in practice, but Ron was forever complaining about the poor quality of the school's practice equipment.

Draco pulled his own gift for Seamus from under the tree without needing to be prompted. Seamus unwrapped it and found a shoebox. He opened that and let out a little scream, reaching in to the box and pulling out...

Ron stared. Seamus was definitely holding an engagement ring, as if the fact that Draco had dropped to one knee wasn't proof enough of that.

"Wow that sort of makes my hitting on Dean with a shirt look like shit," Lavender stage-whispered to Parvati as Seamus stammered out an overwhelmed "yes" at a beaming Draco.

Once the congratulations had gone around, Neville leaned over and muttered, "you didn't do that to me, did you?"

Ron chuckled. "No, love. They've been desperately in love for months. You and I... haven't. We'll get there, but I'm not dumb enough to force it."

Neville smiled at the confidence in Ron's voice. He retrieved his own gift and handed it to Hermione. She unwrapped a book and stared wide-eyed at Neville. Neville shrugged. "Gran has connections with the publisher." Hermione was holding an advance copy of _The Brightest Witch of Her Age: The Triumphs of Hermione Granger,_ part of a series that was scheduled examining the lives of various heroes of the war. While Hermione happily examined her own biography, Neville turned to Ron. "Well, lover?"

Ron pulled his gift for Neville out from under the tree.

+----+

The fact that it was just like the first time they'd done the exchange had just been too much. Hermione balanced her and Harry's son, little James, on her hip while she smiled at the scene. She knew, of course. The last two years had been... busy. Draco and Seamus had gone to the utterly insane measures required for them to have a child together (polyjuice and Seamus not sleeping properly for ten months had been involved) and had the same stressed-out-bliss look the Potter-Grangers did. Dean was on his third breakup with Lavender, this time over her getting together with Victor Krum of all people. 

But the lights glittered as brightly as always, purple and blue and white and green, and the tinsel shone on Dean's tree, and this time when Ron had gotten his lover's name in the Secret Santa, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Neville had given Hermione a book again, this time a hilarious little treatise on parenting that she was already giggling over. He was smiling as he unwrapped the gift Ron had gotten him, the last one unwrapped, because what Ron got for his partner always was, it had happened twice before, and that made it a tradition. Hermione pointed to Ron when Neville took his eyes off his lover. 

Ron's heart was already hammering in his chest. When Neville looked back, the first thing he saw, Ron realized, was the shoebox, the same one Draco had put his engagement ring for Seamus into. Neville recognized it with a little start, and then spotted Ron, down on one knee. He reached into the shoebox to pull out the box the ring was in. "Of course I'll marry you, Ron," Neville whispered, pulling Ron up to kiss him. They slipped rings onto each other's fingers, and Ron might as well have been in a perfectly silent room with Neville for all that he heard the cheering and whooping around him. 

A long while later, when they were all sitting around drinking hot cocoa, Neville said "do you think if we gave the shoebox to Dean, he could get his act together enough to hold onto Lavender?"

They all laughed, and snow fell silently outside, and on the floor James Potter-Granger burbled and cooed together with Andromeda Malfoy. Hermione snoozed on her husband's shoulder, and Harry glanced over at Draco with a little smirk. "If my son falls in love with your daughter, Malfoy," he began in jokingly ominous tones after quite some time.

"We'll set up a Secret Santa for them," Draco said. He gestured to Ron and Neville. "It seems to have worked a treat for the rest of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you don't get to find out what Ron settled on for the Secret Santa gift. Nothing I could come up with would be as good as whatever you've imagined.


End file.
